It started with a Kiss
by dolliexcat
Summary: HG/DM This was written before DH came out yes, I am just now publishing it. Also, Dumbledore's death in HBP is disregarded. Draco is assigned to protect Hermione after she's threatened by Voldemort. A plot I hope you'll enjoy. I'm a bit rusty, but R&R?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Firstly, I own nothing. I give full rights to JKR. Secondly, some chapters (especially this one) can be extremely short. The story is designed to be an easy read. It's rated for some language, and mature scenes later on. Happy reading! :)**

**Ch. 1**

It started with a Kiss.

Draco could feel Pansy's heart-rate accelerating in the thick, pulsing vein that ran the section of her throat that his lips were currently caressing. She was giggling, pleased, of course, and letting her fingers dance gently up the back of his neck.

They were - as they'd been for the past half hour or so - located in a storage closet conveniently attached to the Potions Lab. They both claimed to have "misplaced" the main ingredient they were using that day and Professor Snape excused them both to fetch more from the closet. Now, one must take into account that Pansy and Draco's Relationship was far from secret; actually, it was probably the most exclusive, talked-about relationship in all of Slytherin House. There was very little doubt in the fact that Snape knew about Pansy and Draco's famous relationship status, and there was even less doubt in the fact that he was perfectly aware that they were doing much more than searching for supplies in that closet - Not that he would really care.

Pansy and Draco - perfectly occupied as they were - probably would've continued that way for the rest of the period, had Professor Snape not flung open the door to the supply closet just then...

Shock surged through both of the hormonal teenagers, and they froze; but Snape was unfazed by Draco's shirt that'd been unbuttoned to the navel, and didn't even acknowledge Pansy's skirt which had been discarded to reveal a set of Lacy Green panties. In one motion, Snape yanked a small roll of parchment out of his robes and waved it sharply towards Draco.

"You're wanted in the Headmaster's office," he said, his voice in it's usual deflated tone.

Apparently, he was not at all distracted by the two half-naked adolescents before him.

The two teenagers exchanged a quiet glance for a moment, but did not move. "Before I expire, preferably." growled Snape irritably.

Pansy unwound herself from Draco's torso as he took the slip from Professor Snape.

"This shouldn't take long," the Slytherin said, re-buttoning his shirt. He kissed her lightly on the cheek before he straightened his collar and said, "See you in the Common Room."

Pansy - still in slight shock - muttered a quiet good-bye and watched as he swaggered away into the Hallway, followed by an undisturbed Professor Snape.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch. 2**

Draco stared at Dumbledore with an expression that looked as though he'd been racked in the nuts. The Old-man _had_ to have been kidding... Draco must've heard him wrong...

There was no attempt to hide the venom in the Dragon's words as he spoke, "What do you mean there's a chance I won't pass Seventh year?!"

Despite the young Malfoy's obvious displeasure, Professor Dumbledore looked collected as ever, "You've seen your Marks, Mr. Malfoy, even with proper Make-ups, Remedial classes, _and_ tutoring: your chances of passing are fairly dull."

Anger shot through every nerve in Draco's body. No, it was more than anger. It was pure, unadulterated _Fury_. Had the chair he'd been sitting in not been nailed completely to the floor, he probably would've picked it up and chunked it. Father would have a fit, that was for sure. _No Malfoy_ had _ever_ repeated a year before...

Draco's hands balled into fists on his lap, "And so What?! You dragged me here to gloat?! Well, I'll tell you what, Dumbledore: Thanks, but _No Thanks._ I'd rather drop-out." Before Draco knew it, he was on his feet and storming towards the door.

"You are incorrect, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly as he watched the enraged adolescent fly towards the exit, "I have not brought you here to gloat, but to offer you a preposition instead..."

Draco paused, annoyance taking over firstly, but an undeniable sense of interest budding... He spun to face the white-haired man, but did not speak.

"I understand you're excelling in Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as Potions; actually, If I'm not mistaken, they're the only classes you aren't failing..." Draco still didn't answer, so Dumbledore continued, "Now, I'm also sure you've heard about the Latest Development in the Darker half of our world... The recent threat the Dark Lord's placed upon two students in particular at Hogwarts...."

Draco's face remained blank, it was hard to tell whether or not he was catching on...

Of course Draco knew about the latest development with the Dark Lord, in general detail anyways, but how that led into his passing term still puzzled him.

Dumbledore laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. "My preposition is this: You protect one of our endangered students - keeping her alive, that is - until term lets out, and I'll pass you... Sound fair?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. He hadn't been home since he left on Platform Nine and Three Quarters back in September, and his parents had been away on work - as well as other various tasks - in the past few months; the only thing he knew about the 'latest developments with the Dark Lord' was the gossip trailed down through Crabbe and Goyle senior, to their sons, and onto Draco. From what he heard, You-Know-Who had somehow gotten in contact with Potter, and had made it quite clear that some of the Gryffindor kids were next. Which Gryffindor Kids in particular, Draco did not care to know. It didn't matter to him anyways, his alliances were with Slytherin and Slytherin only.

He didn't relinquish his gaze on his headmaster, "Why me?" he hissed slowly.

"Well for lack of a less obvious reason, you excel at the Dark Arts, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, I'm sure it would not be beyond me to assume that you've had training in that field even outside of your schooling..." Dumbledore paused, his brow raising slightly at the young Slytherin before him, "Your knowledge of them really is quite impeccable," The Headmaster's eyes darkened, "And you know how to defend against them."

Draco continued to stare down at the man as he wondered if the comment was meant to be a threat, or a compliment... Had Dumbledore's intentions been the latter: He sure needed to work on his complimenting skills. And yet, if it was the first choice... Well, Draco couldn't deny the hair on the back of his neck which stood promptly as he continued to even eyes with the headmaster. Still, he spoke steadily.

"It is of no secret to you where my families loyalties lie, Albus." Malfoy said, his eyes fixed on the headmaster, "And more so, I will not continue into anything that may disgrace the Malfoy name." Dumbledore's expression remained unchanged as Draco spoke. "You should know, that by agreeing to this, I am only agreeing to keep this person alive until term lets out. Nothing more. I am not like Potter. I have no interest in playing the hero, or doing the noble thing. As a Malfoy, I do what is good for me, and only me."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, taking in the words of the young blonde before him - he did not speak immediately.

In his silence, Draco couldn't help but wonder why in Merlin's name had Dumbledore picked _him_ to defend whatever Gryffindor was in distress? Did he not at all suspect that Malfoy could in fact, turn the student over to the Dark Lord to gain affection in his master's eyes? Was Dumbledore planning something? Or was he honestly that thick?

Draco never finished his thoughts because at that time, Dumbledore spoke again. "That is all I ask of you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Fine." said Draco, shrugging a shoulder, "But tell me, Who am I protecting anyways?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch. 3**

Hermione Granger sat quietly in a plush red chair outside of Professor McGonagall's office. Since Harry's latest incident with You-Know-Who, she'd been rather on-edge. Even sitting in the warm comfortable presence of Ronald Weasley - who lately, she'd been so accustomed to hanging around - she was restless. Her muscles wouldn't stop moving and her mind wouldn't sit still. She was strangely aware of Ron's eyes boring into her face, but even then, when he reached out and laid his fingers on her arm, she still jumped beneath him.

"Mione," he said quietly, "You sure you're alright?"

Hermione forced a smile and nodded, but luckily, the door to McGonagall's office opened just then, and she no longer had to reply.

"So it's settled then," said McGonagall, striding gracefully into the room, "Mr. Weasley, you've been arranged to be picked up promptly at eight tomorrow morning." Ron nodded as McGonagall continued, "Miss Granger however..."

"Both of my parents are in the Netherlands till May..." Hermione said quietly, with full knowledge McGonagall already was aware of this.

"The Headmaster's arranged proper security for you to stay here, but you're sure there's no where else you can go?" Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione shook her head and stared down at her fists.

"Why can't she just come with me?" Ron asked, his face slowly changing from pink to red.

McGonagall shook her head, "No, Mr. Weasley. As much as your brothers have convinced me the location you'll be going to is secure, it would be too easy for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to take the both of you if you were together; you mustn't forget, he targeted the two of _you_ specifically."

Both Ron and Hermione lowered their gazes uncomfortably, but neither spoke.

"Now," said McGonagall continuing, "There will be extra staff on-hand, armed, at all times, Miss Granger. The Head-Master arranged for you to have a personal body guard, and even your schedule has been re-arranged to better benefit your safety."

Now, Hermione wouldn't mind having more teachers hanging around, and she could deal with a schedule-change, but having a stranger tail her day and night would just be damn-near annoying.

"Yes, Professor..." she said quietly, "But who exactly would be qualified to guard me?" she asked, envisioning a short, stocky auror with mousey brown hair and a long mustache following her from class to class, probably falling asleep in class, or peeping up her skirt, or--

"That, would be _me_."

All three jaws dropped in unison as they found themselves staring into the pointed face of the notorious Slytherin Prince; None other than Draco Malfoy, himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ch. 4**

It was difficult to say who looked more shocked, Ron, or Hermione; but it was clear when a rough, aggravated voice penetrated the silence, it belonged to Ron Weasley.

"No," he said angrily, "No, no, and _No._ I won't hear of it, no! He'll hand her over for sure! It's _No_ secret his family's in cahoots with You-Know-Who, he'll turn her in! Professor McGonagall, No! What?! Has Dumbledore gone mad or something?! He'll hand her over, I say! He will --"

Professor McGonagall shut him out, "Silence, Mr. Weasley." she collected herself for a moment, and managed to sound stern as she continued, "Mr. Malfoy will do no such thing if our Professor Dumbledore assumes he will not. Besides, falsely accusing him is absurd. Miss Granger will be perfectly safe under Mr. Malfoy's care, he _is_ the Finest Defense Against the Dark Arts student Hogwarts has ever seen, not even _you_ can deny that. Your suspicions are over-ruled, Mr. Weasley."

Ron grunted and shifted in his chair while Draco stepped into the room, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. His eyes slid over Hermione, then over Ron. Both who looked more than suspicious of him.

Appearance wise, Malfoy did look a lot better than the stocky auror with the mousey hair she'd been picturing... But she could still picture him falling asleep in her classes and peeking up her skirt. She suppressed an irritated sigh - she knew that it would be _Hell_ with Malfoy alongside her twenty-four seven.

"Now," McGonagall continued, "Quite obviously, Dorm Rooms are no longer of any use to you seeing as you're both different genders, and in different houses. Therefore, separate arrangements have been made to better --"

Ron choked loudly and interrupted her stream of words, "PROFESSOR?! YOU'RE PUTTING MALFOY _ALONE_ WITH HERMIONE OVERNIGHT?! NO WAY! NO CHANCE IN HELL! HE'LL RAPE HER! HE'LL KILL HER IN HER SLEEP! HE'LL --"

"Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall, "You still may use your dorm, and I suggest you get to it now. It is already late and you have an early departure tomorrow morning. It would be wise if you started packing your things."

"But-" Ron began, his eyes pleading.

McGonagall did not show the slightest sign of empathy for him, "Now." she said, her voice hard.

 Ron could feel the intensity of her beady eyes so he did not argue. He simply stood, shot Draco the dirtiest look he could muster, and departed from sight.

"As I was saying," Professor continued, "Head-boy and Head-girl have happily relinquished the luxury of their private quarters for the two of you. They're located at the top of the Fifth Floor staircase in the West Wing. They're behind the portrait of the Three Carolers, which will expect the password _Victorious._" McGonagall paused for a moment and studied each of the students in turn. "Any more questions?"

Draco shrugged, but Hermione raised a hand slowly, "Professor...?" she asked quietly, her eyes staying perfectly trained on McGonagall's shoes, "What exactly will Malfoy be doing to... Protect me?"

McGonagall looked purposefully from Draco to Hermione, "Mr. Malfoy will be with you day and night, all the time; and if anyone attacks... He'll be armed and ready."


	5. Chapter 5

**Ch. 5**

After McGonagall released them, she sent both Hermione and Draco back to their Common Rooms to tell their Dorm Mates and friends of the changes in lodging. Most of Draco's good-bye time was occupied by a lengthy, and overly-passionate "Goodbye Kiss" from Pansy. Although Draco assured her he would still be at Hogwarts, she continued wailing and blubbering to Daphne Greengrass that she was "losing everything she ever loved."

With his trunks being taken up by wand, and Pansy leaving for a rest-room break. Draco decided it was best he get going to his new dorm, to avoid any more theatrics from his obviously dramatic girlfriend. He had just reached the top of the 5th Floor staircase when he heard voices. He slunk into the shadows behind a large suit of armor and eavesdropped on the conversation.

"I don't care what McGonagall says," The voice belonged to Weasley, "I don't trust him."

"I can take care of myself, Ronald. I'm a big girl." It was Granger this time, "Really, Thank you for walking me here, but I can handle this."

"If he touches you Mione, I'll kill him. I swear I will." Ron said, his voice edgy.

Hermione sighed, "I'll be fine, Ron... You'll still see me around school, and if you don't, I swear I'll let you start sharpening the switch-blades."

The pun let a round of awkward laughter flow between the two of them, followed by a short silence.

 Weasley spoke next, "I just... I dunno, Hermione. I care about you.."

There was a silence, and from his position behind the statue, Draco could see the doe-eyed look on Hermione's face..

Ron, who's back was to Draco, looked uncomfortable, staring at his shoes.

_This is the point where you kiss her, numb-skull._ Thought Draco, _What a complete dumb-arse._

Ron didn't catch the hint.

After another moment of agonizing silence, Hermione sighed, "You should get back to the Common Room... Harry may worry."

Ron nodded and muttered a soft "G'night" before he turned and practically sprinted down the staircase - face red as a tomato.

Draco watched as Granger sighed again, and somehow he got the feeling that it was not uncommon for Weasley to be so romantically handicapped.

Hermione leaned against the portrait of the Three Carolers and ran her hands through her thick brown hair. She didn't understand Ronald, sometimes.. As hard as it was to deal with the fact that the world's most powerful sorcerer had personally pinned a target on her back - she also had to try and decode Ron Weasley's cryptic signals. She'd practically been in love with him since First year, but how did he even feel about her?!

A frustrated tear slipped down Hermione's cheek just as Draco appeared - seemingly, out of nowhere.

When his eyes hit Hermoine's, his face was expressionless, and yet, as he glided towards her - more graceful than humanly possible - she found it ever-so-difficult to look away.

He was hypnotizing her with his piercing gray pools. Suddenly, she was addicted, she was drowning, she was lost. Goosebumps exploded in large clusters all over Hermione's creamy white flesh. Soon, she and Draco were less than a foot apart.

"Have you been crying?" he asked gently. His voice sounded alien to her. Unlike his usual rough, shady, malicious tone, this one was soft, barely above a whisper. The drowning ambience Hermione was engulfed in was not altered in the least.

Heat seared through every vein in Hermione's body at the sound of his voice, his words forced her muscles to work again and quickly she brushed away the tear, turning her body to face the three - now sleeping - carolers.

"No, of course not." she said quietly. "I'm just..."

She could feel Draco coming closer to her, his soft, warm breath slightly gracing the base of her neck. "You just... what?" he breathed.

"Why does it matter to you, anyways?" she asked quietly, her voice without rude intentions but dripping with honest curiosity.

He placed his bony white hand on the small of her back and turned her to face him. Hermione was slightly surprised that she hadn't leapt out of her skin under his fingers...

Staring back into those hard, gray eyes mesmerized her once more to the point where words were no longer an option, and all she wanted to do was lean up and kiss those too-cruel pink lips...

As if he were reading her mind, Draco's neck began to lean down and his that white-blonde hair fell before his grey pools... His lids began slowly closing, and there was just under three inches of air-space between them. Hermione was completely lost in the smell of him, and the look of that pale skin that would soon be contacting hers.. Her eyes closed too, and she waited for the moment where their lips would finally meet...

Draco's soft pink lips were only millimeters away from Grangers, and as he closed the gap, he heard her gasp slightly in the back of her throat before her muscles automatically recoiled and she took a step back, falling not-so-gracefully into the portrait behind them.

The Three Carolers were jousted awake and immediately made their disapproval apparent.

 "Ya' don't have to stand there all day y'anno. We was only sleepin'!" said one of the carolers, obviously cranky from being awoken.

Hermione flushed pink and immediately turned to face the portrait - hell she would have looked the basilisk in the eye again before she let Malfoy see her blush. "Victorious," she commanded, trying to level her voice from the erratic and frazzled rhythm her whole body was taking.

The portrait swung open and Hermione walked slowly into the darkness, she could not see Malfoy, but she heard him come inside after her and close the portrait behind them. They stood in a hot moment of silence before Hermione began to stumble around awkwardly, muttering something about a light-switch.

Draco knew Granger could not see his expression in the darkness, but even had it been light he could tell she wouldn't look him in the face for a while - thus he did not hide his emotions. An all-knowing smirk made it's presence on Draco's cruel, twisted lips. _I had her eating out of the palm of my hand.._ He thought maliciously.

In the darkness, he heard Hermione shriek and heard a number of metal clangings, he followed her pathetic sounds until he located her tangled in a suit of armor, trying to reach a candle located above it. He shook his head for a moment before he flicked his wand and lit the candle, seeing Hermione - who at this point was Gryffindor scarlet - looking awfully sheepish.

"Alright there, mudbl--" Draco coughed, "I mean, Granger.." he lent his hand down to her, "Are you alright there, _Granger_?"

Hermione had heard his near slip in calling her a mud-blood, not that she cared anyways. Draco Malfoy had been calling her a mud-blood since her first year; though it was no term of endearment, it was one Hermione did not bother to call attention to due to the fact that she was already mad pink in the face, and tangled in a web of metal. She accepted his hand and he pulled her easily out of her wreckage.

"If you didn't already know," said Draco pulling her to her feet, "Your room is off to that side," he motioned lazily with his head to the right, "There's a bathroom adjoined to it and mine's on the other side."

Hermione was on her feet now, but she was staring at Draco with those large cinnamon coloured hues that made his thought process stop. For a long moment they stared at each other in the flickering candle-light, and when his brain began to function slightly, Draco realized his heartbeat palpitated at the thought that she may to try to kiss him again.

"Malfoy..." Hermione whispered, her eyes not leaving his.

Draco was surprised at the sound of his own breathless voice as he breathed, "Yeah..?"

"...My hand."

Both gazes fell to their entwined hands where Draco - nearly white at the knuckles - was still holding Hermione's hand. He coughed uncomfortably and shifted her fingers out of his grip - shoving his own slender digits roughly in his pocket.

"Your trunks should already be in your room," he said gruffly, turning away from her, "If you need anything, call me." he said quickly before he disappeared behind one of the wooden doors adjacent to hers.

Hermione sighed for a moment, finding suddenly that her breath was gone. But as she collected herself, she made her way into the bedroom designated for her - previously the Head Girl's room - and fell into the soft, plush white pillows.

Draco, in the next room over could not help but shiver as he removed his clothing and crawled into his own black sheets. It was not cold, mind you, the term had hardly started and it was still very near summer... But the image of her eyes was imprinted to his brain. He tried to think of other things, he thought of Pansy, and of Quidditch, and of Potions, and his father, and all the things he could to get rid of the mocking image... But alas, it was burned into his conscience, and it was the last thing he saw before he drifted into a dark, warm sleep...


	6. Chapter 6

**Ch. 6**

The next couple of days passed in an odd fashion for Hermione. She would awake in the Head Girls bedroom, then shower and dress - usually by the time she awoke, Malfoy was already up and vigilantly waiting for her in the sitting room with a mug of coffee. The two of them usually ate breakfast in the silence of their private common room before they departed to their first lesson for the day. Having all their classes together, it was rather hard for either of them to ignore the other.

In Divination - one of Draco's courses that Hermione was now required to take - the Gryffindor know-it-all would simply sit next to Draco for the whole class, sighing and rolling her eyes every now and then at what Trelawney was saying. Occasionally she would make a remark about how Firenze had taught the class so much better, but after a warning look from Draco, it was not hard to silence her.

When their schedules had combined, Hermione had refused to give up Ancient Runes, thus Draco was now required to sit through endless lectures of the importance of Runes in our history. He was usually only ten minutes into the lesson before he gave up listening and fell asleep, only to be bothered by Hermione when his soft snoring became too much for her concentration.

 Meals were also an odd subject, breakfast was eaten in private, and by mid-day the two of them were usually too beat from their morning lessons to deal with the hassle of lunch. On most days, they usually just retired to their dorm for the hour to rest and recollect before afternoon lessons; dinners, though, no one could afford to miss. At this time, Hermione and Draco would enter the Great Hall together and make their way to their separate house tables - though Draco, as always, would keep a watchful eye on her as she conversed with Potty and his crowd.

It was a Thursday night like many before it - dinner had let out, and Draco and Hermione were resting quietly in the sitting room of their dorm. Hermione's nose was deep inside a Muggle Studies textbook and she was writing up the finishing touches on her essay. Draco was standing near-by with his wand twirling between his fingers and his eyes out the window at the falling leaves. It was the middle of October already.

Absently, Draco found himself sighing at the sight. Had a month already passed? No, it couldn't have. Time was playing tricks on his mind; yes, he must be mistaken... And yet, the leaves falling before his eyes made him sigh once more. He almost wished he could be like the leaves, simple in every way, just falling away to the ground when things got hard only to bloom again in the spring when their lives were so much simpler...

He didn't even notice Hermione was standing behind him until she whispered, "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Draco nearly leapt out of his skin as he turned to see the mud-blooded Granger standing behind him, her gaze now also cast out the window. "Yeah.." he mumbled, turning back to see the leaves.

"I think life would be so much simpler if we were like plants..." Hermione said quietly, almost dreamily, "Everything they do is already programmed for them. By birth, they know to shed their dead weight when it gets cold, they can survive through harsh conditions, and after all the storms, they bloom again beautifully in the spring.." it was her turn to sigh, "They never have to deal with unexpected twists of fate, or threats, or things they can't explain like feelings.."

Draco turned away from the window and let his eyes fall down on hers, awestricken. _Did she know she had just read his mind? _

He noticed for the first time that the cinnamon pools were graced with tiny flakes of gold and green, and that when she spoke passionately like this, they danced to a rhythm Draco had never seen before...

"What is it, Malfoy?" asked Hermione, seeing now that he was searching her eyes. "What's wrong?"

_There was no way she could've known,_ Draco decided, _But sharing a brain-wave with Granger?_ That was like sharing a brainwave with Albus Dumbledore! Something Draco knew he would never do - _could_ never do.

"Malfoy, why are you staring at me like--?" Hermione didn't get to finish.

Suddenly, a great impulse took over Draco and he leaned down quickly, not even giving her a chance to take a breath before he pressed his lips onto hers. She didn't gasp this time, but he could feel her surprise radiate through her skin... After a short moment, she was kissing him back.

Her hands wrapped instinctively around his neck and she felt him shudder. His hands snaked their way around her waist, and ran easily over her back.

With a considerable amount of will-power, Draco managed to break the kiss and leaned back to look into her eyes. Hermione did not frown, but she did not smile, "What was that Malfoy? You... kissed me."

Draco turned back to the window, "You kissed me back."


	7. Chapter 7

**Ch. 7**

The moon had already been high in the sky for over an hour, but Hermione was still in the sitting room, fussing away over a piece of Parchment due tomorrow in Transfiguration. She sighed unhappily, though she was already positive the essay would get her passing, trying to revise and edit was proving to be rather difficult with the certain subject that seemed to be ever-present in her mind. His face flashed across her vision - that fragile pale skin, that gorgeous white-blonde hair, and those eyes... Those light gray-blue eyes that could rip through a person's soul with the intensity of a thousand knives... Yes, he was definitely quite the distraction.

_Drat!_ she thought, now realizing she was once more finding herself distracted by his face. She sighed and realized that finishing this essay was not only unnecessary, it was impossible; especially under given circumstances. Draco was supposed to be protecting her, but he was really no more than a distraction... A gorgeous distraction he was though. When his lips had touched hers earlier, her heart had completely left her. It seemed that everything in the world had melted away and all she could think about was how desperately she wanted those lips back on hers.

She was on her feet before she'd even decided where she wanted to go, but the next thing she knew, she was standing before Draco's door, her hand on the knob.

Inside the bedroom, Draco was laying still on his bed, his eyes once more out the window and his mind off in another time. He was secretly replaying the way Granger's lips felt on his, the way they were soft, and full, and the color of rubies made his insides squirm a tad. Of course, even Draco didn't understand his fascination with the bushy-haired know-it-all. But when he'd kissed her earlier that day, it wasn't because he was trying to out-do Weasley, or even because he was curious... It was because he wanted to. He _wanted_ to kiss Hermione Granger.

He was immediately drawn back to the conversation he shared with Dumbledore over a month ago where he vowed to be guilty of nothing more than keeping this student alive until the end of the school year... He couldn't have known then what a true mystery his assignment would end up to be. And the fact that he was feeling all of this intensity about the Mud-blood, _Hermione Granger?_ It was nearly too much for him.

The door opened then, and Draco heard her soft footsteps pad delicately inside. He could hear her shallow breathing. She was nervous, he could tell. But why was she even in here?

From where she stood, Hermione could just barely see the outline of a bed, and an armoire, a couple of trunks on the floor and a chair in the corner - the room set-up was very similar to her own - and yet, everything looked alien. Malfoy's pale, white skin glowed gently in the darkness and Hermione could see every detail of his perfectly chiseled back, even with hardly any light.

_Was he asleep? _She couldn't tell, but she stepped closer to the bed, and said his name out loud, "Malfoy?"

He didn't roll over, he kept his back to her as he answered, "What is it, Granger?"

"I..." Hermione hadn't even thought out her approach this far, What was she even here for? "I just wanted to tell you that..." her voice trailed off.

Hermione frowned at the feeling that she was beginning to sound foolish. She wanted to make up an excuse for her entry. She wanted to turn and run away. She wanted to be absolutely anywhere else in the world but here... But the sight of his flexed back muscles graced by the moonlight made her involuntarily shudder. He was a mass of toned perfection.

"I need to know why you..." she tried again, weakly.

"Why I what, Granger?" Draco said, his voice even, his back still towards her.

Hermione breathed uneasily, but stepped closer to the bed anyways, "Why did you kiss me today?" she blurted suddenly. "I need to know why you kissed me..."

Draco shook his head, but didn't answer immediately. When the silence had settled, he spoke quietly, "For the same reason you kissed me back," he said, "You wanted to."

Hermione found her fingers shaking slightly, "You wanted to... kiss me?"

"I did it, didn't I?"

She nodded in silence, but when she didn't reply Draco rolled over, "Come here." he said, it was not a command, it was a request, but she did so.

Hermione pulled herself onto the bed beside him and sat, her eyes facing his; he took her trembling hand in his and stared into those honey-brown eyes.

"Why are you shaking?" he asked quietly, noticing now that her fingers were trembling, "Are you afraid of me?"

"Yes," said Hermione, her eyes falling from his, "You've spent the last seven years torturing me, Malfoy... But then that day in front of the portrait you almost kissed me, and then earlier--" she was shaking her head so fast she didn't think he saw the tear of frustration slip down her cheek. He did. "I'm scared of what you make me feel..."

Draco was still, "What do I make you feel, Granger?"

Hermione swallowed, when her voice came out it was scarcely above a whisper, "I don't know, Malfoy..." she said, "I don't know how you make me feel and that scares me."

Draco pushed her chin up now so that she would look at him, "Please don't be afraid of me," his voice came out slow, and sounded almost desperate, "Please don't... Don't say you're afraid of me."

Hermione was shocked by how delicate and vulnerable the dragon looked at that moment, but her instincts took over then and she leaned in close to him, "Prove to me I have nothing to be afraid of," she whispered, "Show me who you are, Draco Malfoy."

Draco had to bite his lip to keep from kissing her again, this moment was not one for kissing, and he knew that, but was it his fault she was so fucking cute? He wrapped his arms around her instead and pulled her down next to him, cradling her softly in his grasp as she laid her bushy brown hair against his chest.

"This is who I am," he whispered into the silence, "Even Dragons can be tamed sometimes."


End file.
